Saving the Heartthrob Frenemy-Chapter 513: The weak are food for the strong

Jolie recalled what happened just now and winced before saying, "You don’t want to know." She walked over to the other man to interrogate him but as she closed in on the motionless figure, the air around her suddenly crackled with the sound of two arrows sliced through the stillness, swiftly finding their mark in the assassin’s chest. Another set of arrows flew past killing the other assassin.

Startled, Jolie and Qie Xieling whirled around, their senses on high alert. Their eyes scanned the surrounding bamboo forest, searching for the source. In the distance, obscured by the thick foliage, a figure emerged, a shadowy presence with a bow in hand. Before they could react, the silence was shattered by the haunting laughter of an elder, echoing through the tranquil grove.

As the laughter grew louder, a group of unknown men came out from the dense bamboo, their eyes sharp and their movements purposeful. At their forefront strode the elder, his weathered face creased with a sly smile. He seemed very happy to see Qie Xieling for some reason.

"I never thought that there was anyone left. I thought the King died without an heir," the elder called out, his voice carrying a mix of warmth and authority. "You look just like your grandfather."

The sudden appearance of this elder and his enigmatic followers set their instincts on edge. As the group drew closer, Qie Xieling’s hand tightened around the hilt of his blade. He and Jolie exchanged a glance but in their minds, they were talking to each other.

’Who is the old man,’ he asked and Jolie had to check the system before replying.

’One of the king’s guards for this character’s grandfather. He is the original man by the Grand King’s side before he died,’ replied Jolie seeing visuals of how terrifying this man was in battle.

Qie Xieling couldn’t make sense of this stupid plot. If they were there to support the crown why did they let the families depose the former King and didn’t assist him? Something about this was fishy.

"Come come come. It’s not good to stand here with all this blood," said the elder beckoning him over. Qie Xieling and Jolie followed after him while some of the men disposed of the corpses after making sure they were dead.

***

Qie Xieling entered the grand hall. They had been incredibly hospitable giving him hot water and even getting someone to style his hair. The entire time the girls were giggling calling him pretty. And where was Jolie in all this?

Being pampered like she was a princess. She was like a little piggy being pampered before slaughter. These people even gave him a set of new robes to wear and they weren’t taking no for an answer. He was now draped in a lavish red and white robe, embroidered with a Suanni dragon down the tail of the robe appearing majestic like he was truly the king of this world.

His steps paused when he took in the sight inside the hall. There were seven elders, each clad in solemn black robes sitting in the hall on either side.

When their eyes met him, they couldn’t help but stare in marvel. Qie Xieling, in his resplendent attire, bore an uncanny resemblance to the late grand king, from the dignified tilt of his head to the regal set of his shoulders.

In the centre of the hall, a font blazed with bright red flames, cast a warm, ethereal glow that reflected in the elders’ eyes. The flames danced and flickered, casting intricate patterns on the walls, and the air was heavy with a sense of ancient power and solemnity.

Qie Xieling cleared his throat, the sound echoing softly in the vast space breaking the spell. The elder that met him earlier whom he now knew was called Elder Xuan walked over and led him closer to the font of flames.

The air in the hall was heavy with the scent of incense, and the silence was profound. Elder Xuan gestured for him to step forward, his expression inscrutable. "Stretch out your palm my Lord," he commanded in a low voice.

Without hesitation, Qie Xieling obeyed. Elder Xuan drew a sharp dagger and with a swift motion, cut across Qie Xieling’s palm. He winced, but his eyes remained fixed on Elder Xuan and he did not protest.

Elder Xuan guided his now clenched palm over the flickering flames that danced in the grand font. Blood trickled from his hand, falling into the heart of the fire. For a moment, the flames seemed to hesitate, as if absorbing the sacrifice.

Then, a sudden shift occurred, and the flames transformed. They turned from their warm, red hue to a deep, consuming black, swirling fiercely in the font. The elders gasped in unison, rising from their seats before kowtowing in front of Qie Xieling.

Qie Xieling stood, his hand still over the fire, watching in awe as the once tranquil flames now roared with an intensity that seemed almost otherworldly. He felt a surge of power ripple through the hall. How did him trying to save his husband turn into this?

The elders were crying out ’your majesty’ one after the other venerating him. Qie Xieling’s brow furrowed as Elder Xuan led him to sit down at the most prestigious seat in the hall.

Qie Xieling had never been in this position before and didn’t know how to act. He raised his hand gesturing for them to stop. The elders hastily sat back down. Qie Xieling thought being kowtowed at was uncomfortable but being stared at like he was the semblance of the northern lights was even more unsettling.

"Your Majesty, what are your orders?" asked Elder Xuan. The old man was more than ready to storm the capital and slaughter all the masters of the four families and roll their heads in the streets for display. He could feel that Qie Xieling was different from his father and the fight in the bamboo forest further confirmed it. Qie Xieling fought just like his grandfather and for a moment he saw the shadow of that man in him.

Qie Xieling chuckled softly before saying, "Did you give my father the same welcoming treatment? Didn’t you let his throne get robbed right in front of your eyes and did nothing."

The hall fell silent for a moment. How to say this? They lived by the Grand King’s motto which was the weak are food for the strong and the late king was exactly that, weak.